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Chapter 210 - Chapter 211: Turning Ideals into Reality (1)

Barcelona stuck to their style, building up patiently as they looked for scoring opportunities.

But the actual chances were falling to Real Madrid.

Thanks to Xabi Alonso's pinpoint killer passes and the sharp off-the-ball movement of Ronaldo and Ho-young, the momentum shifted.

Although Victor Valdés pulled off some incredible saves to keep the ball out of the net, the flow of the game was clearly tilting against Barcelona.

'Damn.'

Xavi swallowed his frustration.

He thought they had a decent shot, but this match was far tougher than expected.

As much as Barcelona had improved, Real Madrid had grown stronger compared to last season.

More precisely, Ho-young's ability had reached a new level.

Even for someone like Xavi, universally recognized as a football genius, it was a tough pill to swallow.

But it wasn't the first time he had felt this way.

He remembered feeling a similar sense of awe when he first saw Messi.

That moment remained one of the most memorable in his career.

Messi's potential had been on a level unmatched by anyone else.

But now…

'This is just...'

He was witnessing something that surpassed even that.

As sorry as he felt for his teammate Messi, it was the truth.

Based on everything he had seen so far, Ho-young's potential far exceeded it.

Not that Messi was less skilled.

Messi had his strengths too. But Ho-young had far more advantages in comparison.

'Versatile and nearly flawless in execution.'

Zidane's successor?

No, it was more fitting to call him the heir to Alfredo Di Stéfano.

'Frightening.'

He had felt it last year too. Facing Ho-young was like rolling the dice.

You couldn't deal with him using safe, conventional methods.

No matter what play he made, you had to anticipate, judge, and find the best possible response instantly.

That was how Xavi dealt with Ho-young.

'I have to keep my eyes on him at all times. Never know what card he'll pull next.'

With a wide view of the field, Xavi shouted toward the back line.

"Abidal! Widen the space on the left! Ho-young's movement is tilting that way!"

That moment changed the flow of the match again.

It was the 21st minute of the first half.

"Éric Abidal receives the ball. He looks forward, but... no clear options. In the end, he passes it back to Valdés."

"Ho-young is aggressively covering the right, cutting off attacking routes. Thanks to that, Douglas looks much more comfortable now."

"Maybe it's because they played together at São Paulo's youth team, but their chemistry is on point. Great teamwork here."

Their combined effort was locking down Barcelona's left flank.

Even Pedro, positioned as the left winger, was getting shut down and unable to make any notable plays.

But with every gain, there's a loss.

"Pressure in the middle is loosening up, giving Keita more freedom. Barcelona starts funneling passes through the center again."

Having struggled to create chances so far, Barcelona shifted their focus.

They ignored the left completely, attacking through the middle and right.

That's where the danger began for Madrid.

Arbeloa, deployed as the left-back today, teamed up with Ronaldo to defend the left side, but it had its limits.

Only now did the Messi-Alves connection start showing its full potential.

"Cut off Alves's run. Block Messi's central movement from the back."

Per Mertesacker, the defensive commander, shouted instructions across the left side.

But it wasn't enough.

Knowing how to deal with Messi was one thing, having the ability to do it was another.

Tap!

"After some deflections, the ball ends up with Messi."

"Lionel Messi nudges the ball forward!"

"Ronaldo is chasing him down!"

"But Messi powers through, driving forward!"

Clean, efficient dribbling.

After brushing off Ronaldo, Messi changed direction and slipped past Arbeloa, causing the situation to escalate.

"Messi plays a pass to Xavi and sprints into the box!"

A dangerous moment.

With Zlatan positioned in the center, drawing defenders' attention, Messi's run into the box created space.

Right then, Pedro and Iniesta made inside runs toward goal.

In the blink of an eye, the attacking line swelled to four players.

Xavi's eyes lit up.

"A perfect killer pass finds its way to Iniesta!"

The angle for a shot opened up slightly, but instead of shooting, Iniesta chose to pass.

It went to Pedro, who was completely unmarked to his side.

"A simple touch toward Pedro!"

"He fires a shot!"

Thud!

"Casillas makes the save! Lightning-quick reflexes like an animal!"

A ferocious attack, but no time to catch a breath.

Casillas punched the ball away, but it landed right at Zlatan's feet.

A shot was moments away.

Nearly 100,000 fans fell completely silent as the stadium held its breath.

But then—

Thump!

"A spectacular sliding tackle from Pepe!"

Pepe threw himself at the ball, nullifying a golden opportunity.

But it still wasn't safe.

They needed one more step to fully escape the danger.

And just then—

Tap.

"Fernando Gago somehow gets possession!"

"Iniesta and Messi close in!"

Crash!

A heavy challenge. A physical struggle broke out, but Gago managed to clear the ball just before going down.

It reached Xabi Alonso in the center of the pitch.

From crisis to opportunity.

"The situation is heating up. You can't take your eyes off it for a second!"

"Still, options up front look slim. Anything could happen in the next second."

It was true.

What happened next was something no one could have predicted.

'Now.'

Barcelona's press was fierce, but Ho-young dropped into midfield, making Alonso's distribution smoother.

"Xabi Alonso escapes the pressure and sends the ball high toward the left wing!"

"Ronaldo goes up for it!"

Thud!

"Ugh!"

Alves tried to contest the ball, but Ronaldo's leap was on another level.

He won the aerial duel easily.

"Ronaldo's header drops the ball toward Ho-young in the center!"

"Keita and Iniesta rush in immediately!"

Before Ho-young could even get a proper touch, intense pressure descended on him.

Barcelona was determined not to allow a counterattack.

But Ho-young's composure under pressure and exquisite footwork made all of it meaningless.

'Behind me.'

Slide.

"…!"

In an instant, he dragged the ball backward, causing Keita to overextend and miss.

Iniesta joined in, but the ball had already left Ho-young's foot.

"A pass played backward. Xabi Alonso receives and calmly retains possession."

"Ronaldo escapes the pressure in the air, and Ho-young does it on the ground. Barcelona's players look completely lost."

"All that pressing for nothing. Meanwhile, Madrid has regained control."

It was the moment Guardiola's six-second rule failed.

Fortunately for Barcelona, their defenders had already retreated back into shape.

But Xabi Alonso had found his rhythm, and the tide began to shift.

It happened in an instant.

Alonso looked up and spotted movement ahead. Immediately, the attacking formation realigned.

"Ronaldo is cutting inside!"

Ho-young vacated the center for Ronaldo and moved to the right wing.

Douglas pushed forward to form a two-top with Van Nistelrooy.

Meanwhile, Arbeloa surged forward to fill the now-empty left flank.

It looked like each player was chasing the other in sync.

The 'Chaser Drill' they had trained was now being executed in an actual match.

The Chaser Drill was a rotational switching tactic where players constantly follow and replace each other in sequence, like a snake biting its tail.

It looked simple, but when executed smoothly, it overwhelmed the opposition.

Sure enough, Barcelona's back line was visibly flustered.

"Hold your positions! Switch to zonal defense! Don't follow the players, mark the space!"

Puyol shouted, trying to organize the defense, but the confusion on the players' faces was obvious.

The defensive line was getting pulled left and right.

Even the commentators couldn't hide their surprise.

"What is going on here?"

"Once again, Real Madrid has rolled out a surprise tactic. At the very least, they've succeeded in pushing Barcelona's defense to the brink. But it's a high-risk strategy. If they lose the ball while transitioning, it could be catastrophic."

This tactic was risky by design. If the opportunity wasn't converted, it brought more danger than reward.

A single turnover could spell disaster.

But Madrid's build-up proceeded steadily, just as they had trained.

The players kept moving, disrupting Barcelona's defense at every turn.

At the center of it all, Van Nistelrooy served as the pivot, instilling fear in the opponents.

And that wasn't all.

"Real Madrid shifts once again!"

Like a machine being reassembled, the formation changed once more.

Ho-young surged forward, and Douglas dropped to the left wing.

Barcelona's defensive line swayed again in response.

In that brief moment, a wide gap opened between Puyol and Valdés.

Right then—

Boom!

Xabi Alonso struck.

"A long pass sent directly behind the defensive line!"

"Van Nistelrooy and Ho-young break in at the same time!"

Everything went according to plan.

There were a few rough patches, but for two weeks of training, the execution was outstanding.

Now all that remained was the finish.

With Van Nistelrooy and Ho-young up front, arguably the best finishers in the world, it couldn't be more reassuring.

This time, the ball fell to Ho-young.

In the blink of an eye, he prepared his shot.

One-touch with the right instep. Two-touch with the left toe.

Then the strike.

That was all it took.

Rip!

"Gooooooooal! It's a wonder goal from Ho-young! That's his 10th league goal of the season!"

"Midway through the first half, Real Madrid takes the lead!"

"Uwooooooooh!"

A thrilling sensation surged through his entire body.

The tactic they had crafted so carefully had worked.

In that moment, it felt like he had the whole world.

Without looking back, Ho-young ran straight to Scolari to celebrate.

"Perfect teamwork, passing, movement, and finishing. Everything was flawless. There was a shaky moment, but in the end, Scolari's tactic came through."

"Amazing. A strategy that didn't seem feasible has become reality."

Shock and awe.

Guardiola looked stunned, clutching his head in disbelief.

A completely unexpected tactic.

He had been thoroughly outplayed by Scolari, a man often criticized as a manager only fit for national teams.

'Could that have been Ho-young's idea too…?'

A chill ran down his spine.

It felt like even the few remaining hairs on his head were falling out.

Then came the second half.

Ho-young stepped into the center circle, eyes locked on Zlatan.

Today was the day.

(To be continued.)

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